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Page 97
But that was only part of it. Marc and I needed time to talk. Alone.
He parked near the back of a Walmart parking lot as the sun began to go down, and I jotted a list on a scrap of paper I found in the glove compartment. As soon as Jace was gone, Marc turned to me. “You should have let me kill him.”
At first, I thought he meant Jace. But then Marc’s gaze strayed to my cheek, and I understood. He meant Dean.
I ran one finger carefully over the cut. The pain had dulled a bit, but my anger had not. “Maybe so. But I think he’ll suffer more now.”
“If I see him again, I’ll kill him.”
Too tired to argue, I let my hand fall into my lap. “Fair enough.” With any luck, the next time we saw Dean would be during full-scale war. His death would be justified. “If I don’t kill him first.”
After another minute of silence, Marc glanced into the empty backseat. “You know it’s all I can do to be in the same car with him. Every instinct I have is telling me to kill him.”
Clearly, we’d moved on to Jace.
“I know.” My heart felt as bruised as my throat. “What about me?”
“I’m trying really hard not to hate you right now, Faythe.”
I blinked back fresh tears. “I hate myself right now.”
“Then why did you do it?” His teeth ground together audibly. “Just…why?”
I tried to speak and choked on a sob instead. There was no simple answer. No logical reason. Jace and I had connected in a moment of heart-wrenching grief, and no one was more surprised than I was to discover that that connection went beyond the physical.
“Do you love him?” Marc asked, each word harsh, like he’d almost gagged on them.
I forced myself to look at him. To give him eye contact, at least. “Yes.” And that realization made my head spin violently. “I don’t want to, but I do.”
Marc fell back against the door, like I’d punched him, and that ache in my chest settled a little deeper.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Any of it.” I didn’t want to make excuses—he deserved much better than that—but he obviously wanted an explanation. “You were missing, and Ethan had just died. His blood was still wet on the couch. And we were all hurting so much. Jace, just as badly as the rest of us. Maybe worse, because he didn’t have anyone to turn to, and at the time, neither did I. Everyone was handling it differently, and I didn’t know what to do.”
I paused for a deep breath, and to gather my thoughts. The words weren’t coming quickly or easily, but they were the truth, and that seemed to be more important to Marc than my apology. Even if it didn’t make things any better.
“I went to check on him.” I couldn’t make myself say Jace’s name. Not then. Not to Marc. “He’d gotten hurt in the fight, and he’d closed himself up in the guesthouse, all alone. He was already drinking, and I had some, too. I wanted to make the pain go away, just for a little while.” Silent tears pooled in my eyes and I wiped them away, hoping Marc hadn’t seen.
“So, he gets you drunk, and you just lie down for him?” Marc spat, and I flinched at the venom in his voice, though I knew I deserved it. “Better not let that little secret out, or every tom in the country will show up on the doorstep with a bottle and a condom.”
I shook my head slowly, sniffling. “It wasn’t like that, I swear. He said he loved me. He said he needed me, and I…I made a mistake. Sleeping with Jace was a mistake. I know that, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I wish I could take it back. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t mean anything. It did. It does. It changed both of us and made me face the truth about…about how I feel about him.”
“You love him.” That time it wasn’t a question. That time his voice sounded dead, like I’d killed the part of him that supplied emotional resonance for Marc’s voice.
I could only nod miserably.
“Do you still love me?”
“Yes! Desperately,” I said, hoping the truth of my statement shined in my eyes. Hoping he could see it in the near dark. Or at least hear it in my voice. “I know I’ve messed this up, and I honestly don’t know where to go from here. But I don’t want to lose you.”
His eyes glazed over in anger. “Then you have to choose. It’s me or him, Faythe. Once this is over, he and I can’t exist in the same Pride. Not with you. We’d kill each other.”
“I know.” I’d known that all along, but that didn’t make the choice any easier.
“Don’t make this a political decision,” Marc said, and even in the dim light from the parking lot, I could see what it cost him to say that. “I’m the better choice to help you run the Pride, when that time comes, but I’d be lying if I said that mattered. The truth is that you’ve learned a lot this year. With the rest of the guys at your back and your father as an adviser, you can run things just fine on your own. So you owe it to yourself to listen to your heart on this one.”
I gaped at Marc. “You’re serious?” I’d expected him to try to beat the shit out of Jace, or at least lobby harder to have him expelled.
He glanced down, and when he looked up again, the gold in his eyes glittered coldly. “I’m not being selfless. I don’t have that in me right now. I can’t stand the thought of living the rest of my life without you, even after all this. But it would hurt worse to wake up with you every morning for the rest of my life, knowing you regretted your decision. Knowing you settled for me.”
He parked near the back of a Walmart parking lot as the sun began to go down, and I jotted a list on a scrap of paper I found in the glove compartment. As soon as Jace was gone, Marc turned to me. “You should have let me kill him.”
At first, I thought he meant Jace. But then Marc’s gaze strayed to my cheek, and I understood. He meant Dean.
I ran one finger carefully over the cut. The pain had dulled a bit, but my anger had not. “Maybe so. But I think he’ll suffer more now.”
“If I see him again, I’ll kill him.”
Too tired to argue, I let my hand fall into my lap. “Fair enough.” With any luck, the next time we saw Dean would be during full-scale war. His death would be justified. “If I don’t kill him first.”
After another minute of silence, Marc glanced into the empty backseat. “You know it’s all I can do to be in the same car with him. Every instinct I have is telling me to kill him.”
Clearly, we’d moved on to Jace.
“I know.” My heart felt as bruised as my throat. “What about me?”
“I’m trying really hard not to hate you right now, Faythe.”
I blinked back fresh tears. “I hate myself right now.”
“Then why did you do it?” His teeth ground together audibly. “Just…why?”
I tried to speak and choked on a sob instead. There was no simple answer. No logical reason. Jace and I had connected in a moment of heart-wrenching grief, and no one was more surprised than I was to discover that that connection went beyond the physical.
“Do you love him?” Marc asked, each word harsh, like he’d almost gagged on them.
I forced myself to look at him. To give him eye contact, at least. “Yes.” And that realization made my head spin violently. “I don’t want to, but I do.”
Marc fell back against the door, like I’d punched him, and that ache in my chest settled a little deeper.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Any of it.” I didn’t want to make excuses—he deserved much better than that—but he obviously wanted an explanation. “You were missing, and Ethan had just died. His blood was still wet on the couch. And we were all hurting so much. Jace, just as badly as the rest of us. Maybe worse, because he didn’t have anyone to turn to, and at the time, neither did I. Everyone was handling it differently, and I didn’t know what to do.”
I paused for a deep breath, and to gather my thoughts. The words weren’t coming quickly or easily, but they were the truth, and that seemed to be more important to Marc than my apology. Even if it didn’t make things any better.
“I went to check on him.” I couldn’t make myself say Jace’s name. Not then. Not to Marc. “He’d gotten hurt in the fight, and he’d closed himself up in the guesthouse, all alone. He was already drinking, and I had some, too. I wanted to make the pain go away, just for a little while.” Silent tears pooled in my eyes and I wiped them away, hoping Marc hadn’t seen.
“So, he gets you drunk, and you just lie down for him?” Marc spat, and I flinched at the venom in his voice, though I knew I deserved it. “Better not let that little secret out, or every tom in the country will show up on the doorstep with a bottle and a condom.”
I shook my head slowly, sniffling. “It wasn’t like that, I swear. He said he loved me. He said he needed me, and I…I made a mistake. Sleeping with Jace was a mistake. I know that, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I wish I could take it back. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t mean anything. It did. It does. It changed both of us and made me face the truth about…about how I feel about him.”
“You love him.” That time it wasn’t a question. That time his voice sounded dead, like I’d killed the part of him that supplied emotional resonance for Marc’s voice.
I could only nod miserably.
“Do you still love me?”
“Yes! Desperately,” I said, hoping the truth of my statement shined in my eyes. Hoping he could see it in the near dark. Or at least hear it in my voice. “I know I’ve messed this up, and I honestly don’t know where to go from here. But I don’t want to lose you.”
His eyes glazed over in anger. “Then you have to choose. It’s me or him, Faythe. Once this is over, he and I can’t exist in the same Pride. Not with you. We’d kill each other.”
“I know.” I’d known that all along, but that didn’t make the choice any easier.
“Don’t make this a political decision,” Marc said, and even in the dim light from the parking lot, I could see what it cost him to say that. “I’m the better choice to help you run the Pride, when that time comes, but I’d be lying if I said that mattered. The truth is that you’ve learned a lot this year. With the rest of the guys at your back and your father as an adviser, you can run things just fine on your own. So you owe it to yourself to listen to your heart on this one.”
I gaped at Marc. “You’re serious?” I’d expected him to try to beat the shit out of Jace, or at least lobby harder to have him expelled.
He glanced down, and when he looked up again, the gold in his eyes glittered coldly. “I’m not being selfless. I don’t have that in me right now. I can’t stand the thought of living the rest of my life without you, even after all this. But it would hurt worse to wake up with you every morning for the rest of my life, knowing you regretted your decision. Knowing you settled for me.”
